


Double Standard

by theotherdesanta



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Drama, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mental Illness, Michael's in trouble, Multi, Other, Protag is trans, Reader fic - Freeform, Reader is the protag, Reader novel, Romance, Tracey gonna whoop ass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 13:16:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8715481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theotherdesanta/pseuds/theotherdesanta
Summary: You are the errand boy for Richards Majestic and your girlfriend is Tracey De Santa. 
You work a job you're tired of and there's a little voice in the back of your head telling you to do bad things while making lewd comments about the man who is not only your employer but could also be your future father-in-law. 
Life is not great, and it's about to get a whole lot worse. 
Prepare to have your reflection talk back to you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to do a reader fic for some time and finally, I was able to push one out that didn't make me wanna crawl into a hole and die. 
> 
> As it says in the summary/tags, this fic is about a protagonist whose life is about to flip shit and go off-road in a plot that is bound to disturb and incite you.  
> Let it be known now, that there will be violence, and though there won't be any rape there will be mentions (Mostly in Trevor's parts) and if that upsets you then I employ you to not continue further.  
> The same goes for gore and general violence, if you don't like it, run for the hills while you can.  
> \--
> 
> In general news, I've been to the doctor and had my arm checked out, still hurts like a mother-effer but the plus side was that the guy looking at it looked exactly like Michael, so you can imagine how much my face hurt trying not to smile or let him know I was dying on the inside. 
> 
> Other than that, as I said in the last fic, I have reopened my Instagram, so if ya'll wanna hang out or see my awful pics of gta scenery then drop me a line. 
> 
> As one last thing and it's not really news but here it is anyways, I finally bought myself that gta v hoodie! that's right, Christmas is gonna be me humming radio gaga and quoting Michael. Oh boy, I can already feel the regret. 
> 
> So, as always, I love you guys, thank you for the support, and yes I know i sound weird, it's the meds, they blur me out and make me not act smurt.

Congratulations! You, yes You, are allowed to venture beyond the Richard's Majestic studio walls. 

Not wanting to put your escape in Jeopardy you don't ask the question as to where you're going or what items your manager has requested pick-up but you don't care as your last adventure happened in march and it is now December. 

At fucking last, you, are free. 

If for only a short while as you read the higher-ups written instructions and sigh because your mission for today is...to grab everyone on the camera crew a soy latte from Coffeebucks and the only franchise in this god forsaken city is on the other side of town and traffic, as you see from your parking space, is insane this morning. Great. 

You debate on the decision to call your girlfriend for help, as she inhabits the top centre area of Los Santos and it's easier to come into work than it is to leave, heaving another exasperated breath you delve into your ripped jeans for the new ifruit phone your employer gave as part of your contract and close your eyes whilst your thumb hits speed dial. 

“Hey, Babe!” Her delightfully preppy schoolgirl voice fills the speaker. 

Automatically blushing at your partner's reaction to your phone call, you bow a little and stuff the other hand into your jeans, smiling and stuttering as you try to vomit the words needed to ask for her assistance. 

“Coffee-duty again, why can it never be something fun like shopping or going to the nail salon!” She says, grumbling on your behalf. 

You laugh, sucking in air to stop your own voice from plateauing down into the pit of your stomach from where only questionable substances can escape with extreme force. 

“You know what, I'm gonna call Daddy and tell him to give someone else this sucky job!” Your heart barrel-rolls into your ribcage at the notion of Tracey talking to her father, your professional relationship with him is already on thin ice due to the nature of the romantic one you share with his only daughter, hastily you urge her not to say anything to him and explain a few minor incidents that have occurred in the past week that are sure to have you front and centre of the firing squad if her dad has any sort of reasoning to do so. 

“If he did then I'd just have to hire you. Use my daddy's money until I was capable of paying which would totally never happen” The tone she uses in her giggle is more menacing than it is cutesy, the notion of becoming her pet, or to the point, her slave, may perhaps be a worse fate than becoming the studio's trash boy, because unlike Solomon and Mr De Santa, Tracey is less willing to let you go home at the end of your work shift, if your work shift even has an end and you don't just live in a little cage at the foot of her bed for the rest of eternity. 

The two of you speak of the prospects of being a personal shopper for a rich movie producers shopaholic daughter but then you yourself also discuss the importance of being financially stable without the help of a partner as you've just come out of a family life where you were previously dependent on other people and don't wish to be caught in another scenario where you owe more than you could hope to pay back. 

Tracey, being of wealth since her early teens, can no longer comprehend what it's like to not have a vast amount of green on standby, or have people around her unwilling to offer the woman however much she desires in order to continue on with her lavish lifestyle. 

You sit on the hood of your rusted two door ford car and let your shoulders sink as her words begin to actually hit a nerve you weren't sure you possessed. 

This job is all you have, This job is what's going to get you out of debt, out of that shitty apartment that's no more than a bed, a broken bathroom and a kitchen so small a rat would feel claustrophobic, you can't go home, you can't go back home a failure. Not again. 

Accepting the temptation of getting to see Tracey in her lacy underwear is no longer going to get your willingness to follow with her idea, she agrees to go fetch the soy lattes and meet you at the far end of the street so her father doesn't catch you slacking on your job. 

“Thanks, Trace. I love you” 

“You have to say that, you're my boyfriend. Meet you in a few, Blu!” With that, she hangs up and you wander off the premises to go smoke the little remainder of weed you have leftover from making those brownies the night before. 

 

“She's right, you do have to say that” An echo slurs somewhere in the distance of your subconscious. 

“Eat me” Is your only reply, putting the blunt to your lips and flipping out your lighter.

**Author's Note:**

> PS: Just wanted to clear this up but this is an intro, of an intro. Like it's a random piece that comes before the actual intro of the fic so tell me if you like it and if so I will continue/edit/etc. 
> 
> Remember to leave kudos and comment and have a wonderful day. 
> 
> Piece, homies. L.M out!
> 
> PSS: my instagram is Nervousnervouslevi. I'm doing a Sans cosplay this week so if you wanna see one hell of a fail, go check that shit out.


End file.
